


One More Time With Feeling

by orphan_account



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - 1960s, Alternate Universes, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 08:01:02
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 416
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3402974
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Say it in your mind, until you know that the words are right. "This is why we fight."<br/>- - - - - -<br/>Various short stories set in alternate universes. Tags will be updated.</p>
            </blockquote>





	One More Time With Feeling

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1960s AU, from the point of view of both Blake siblings.

            Octavia’s never seen a protest before.

            Actually, she’s never even seen hippies before. Before starting community college, she’d lived an incredibly hemmed-in life, sheltered by her mother and brother alike.

            She’s fascinated now by the group that’s clustered in front of the school. Weren’t hippies supposed to be happy and peaceful? This bunch sure wasn’t. They yelled out in anger, faces contorted in outrage as they waved signs against the Weather Corp’s proposed clear-cutting project nearby.

            Octavia had heard about the project; it had been on the radio, and the girl in her health class, Clarke, had mentioned it before. The Weather Corp wanted to put in a new suburbs—destroying a nature preserve in the process. Their slogan was something about the earth being humanity’s birthright. The hippies here had taken that, and the company’s name as well, and skewed it for their signs:

            “Destruction Isn’t Our Birthright”

            “Save Our Trees, No Matter The Weather”

            The dark-haired girl hadn’t realized that anyone really cared that much about a handful of trees. Clarke had seemed irritated by the project, but not really outraged; even the radio hosts had only briefly delved into the story before moving on to whatever dumb sports scores they wanted to cover.

            Looking at the group in front of her, though, no one could doubt their passion. Underneath the long hair and layers of paisley, dark eyes flashed in determined faces, their teeth bared like wolves.

           

\- - - - - -

            “I’m going to become a Grounder.” 

            “You’re becoming a what?” Bellamy looked up as his sister dropped her bag and marched into the small house.

            “A Grounder.” Uh oh. He’d seen the look on Octavia’s face before: a mixture of determination and excitement, with a good amount of dumb stubbornness mixed in. It was the look that said _go ahead and try, big brother, but you won’t talk me out of anything._

            “Explain, O.” Bellamy sighed.

            “They’re like hippies, but harder.” Octavia took a seat at the little round kitchen table, eyes bright. “They’re saving the earth through strength and willpower. They’re _fighting_ , Bell, not just singing about love while forests die.”

            “That sounds a lot like eco-terrorism.” Bellamy frowned. One day. She’d been at community college _one day_ and she already wanted to join some sketchy, tree-hugging street gang.

            “It sounds groovy.” Goddammit, now she was getting that obstinate tilt to her chin. His brave, stubborn, infuriating little sister. "They're making a difference out there, Bellamy. I want to make a difference."

            "Octavia..."

            "I'm joining."


End file.
